


A matter of pride

by Enide_Dear



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, and he will do anything to get it back, doesn't matter if he doesn't even like the stuff, don't touch Thranduil's stuff, he is not getting attached to Gimli, how dare you even suggest such a thing?!, it is his, sighs, totally a matter of pride, yes even the dwarf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27875013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enide_Dear/pseuds/Enide_Dear
Summary: Gimli gets abducted by bandits when visiting Mirkwood. Thranduil does not take lightly on the hospitality and protection of his kingdom getting violated. That is all the lies behind his slight overreactions.
Relationships: Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 24
Kudos: 209
Collections: The Two Thousand Fics on AO3 Gigolas Challenge





	A matter of pride

”You see, liking him has nothing to do with it,” Thranduil held his sword in front of him, firelight licking up and down the bared blade as he studied it. “Quite the contrary.”

The four brigands still alive – Men all of them – seemed unable to take their eyes of him, as if he was a candle and they moths. They were on their knees on the floor of the filthy hovel were they presumably lived, somewhere in the wilderness east of Mirkwood but not quite within the realm of Laketown and the Lonely Mountain. Their hands had been tied behind them and their weapons removed. Apart from the bound Men and the Elven King, there was no one in the single room. All four Men jumped when a log fell on the fire in the soot filled hearth. 

“Some would even think I would reward you. After all, my distaste of dwarves are well known.” There was nothing human to the way the Elven King moved. Even in a simple leather jerkin made for speed in battle and easy travel, there was an eerie otherworldliness about both his face and his motions. Everyone in a hundred miles surrounding Mirkwood knew two things about the King; his contempt for dwarves and his greed for jewels. But even here, dressed in simple leather grabs and with no ornaments, it was impossible to mistake him for anything but the King. “But as you see, your mistake was grave.”

The elven attack on the brigands home had come so quickly, so quietly and unexpected that three of them were dead before they even knew what happened. Two shot down from a distance, falling with arrows in their throats before they could utter a sound and the last one, their leader who had held the dagger to the dwarf’s throat, cut down with such vehemence by an elf that somehow came crashing through the roof that his head flew across the room to end up close to the hearth. It still looked very surprised up at its formers comrades. 

“None may enter my Kingdome without my leave. None may leave without my word. And,” the king’s silver grey eyes shone up with a cross of greed and love that would on a Man look utterly mad. “None may break the peace and protection of Eryn Lasgalen without paying for it!”

There were more elves around, the brigands knew. At least ten outside, with bows and arrows ready. And another just outside the open door, still leaning over the dwarf they had kidnapped. His quick, strong hands that had so easily taken the head of their leader was now at work binding wounds and checking vital signs. They had called him Prince and although he had none of the cold aloof majesty of the King, there was another, hotter power around him.

The dwarf was still unconscious. 

But somehow all these others didn’t matter, for all that they could end the Men’s lives in a heartbeat. The King demanded all attention. Elves had magic, everyone knew, although what kind of magic was hotly debated. 

The Prince turned around any by the fire in his eyes it looked like he would want to transform them all to pigs, hunt them down and spit them over a fire and quite possibly eat them. 

“How is he?” The King temporarily turned his attention away from his prisoners. 

“Broken fingers and severe bruising. He fought back hard. The hit on his head….” Grey eyes flashed. “He may be unconscious for days.”

“You have done this to a guest under my protection.” From the sound of it, the brigands might have stolen the King’s favorite necklace and broken it, possibly beyond mending. “I will have recompence for this slight.”

The long sword flickered too fast to see and came to rest underneath the chin of the closest Man. 

“In blood.”

“Please!” The Man finally managed. “We didn’t know…he was just a dwarf! We didn’t know he meant anything to you!”

“Yes yes, we was to ransome him back to the Lonely mountain, is all!” another shouted. 

“We would never harm anything in the woods we knew belonged to your Kingdom!”

“We didn’t….”

But the sword flickered up and silenced them all. 

“All that I choose to call mine, is mine. And this is true for my son to. All things. Even a dwarf.” He didn’t sound entirely please with that, but the slight on his pride was far greater than the exasperation of the choice of his son and the manner of the of object – or living creature. “You will die for your ignorance.”

The blade drew back for a quick strike and the Men screamed but the King’s hand was checked by the Prince’s. He’d bandaged the dwarf’s fingers tenderly as well as the wound on his head and wrapped him in a cloak and was now holding him in his arms. It had taken three Men to carry the dwarf before. 

“Father, no.” The Prince’s eyes shone but it was with a mixture of sorrow and relief. “They are not orcs.”

“Then they should not act like ones. People of any kind are defined by their actions, not their Race.” The King still shone with cold fury. 

“But they are correct in that they didn’t know. Use them to spread knowledge of what is ours.” Fiery eyes flickered between the cut off head and the bound Men. “And what happened to those who would lay hands on it.”

The King seemed to concider. 

“The world is changing,” he finally conceded. “The worlds of Men and Dwarves and Elves are bound to come closer. Perhaps it would be good to let them know.” He cocked his head in a very inhuman motion. “But I doubt these are the messengers we would want to send.”

“At the contrary,” The Prince’s smile was cold. “These are the Men who will spread words to others of their kind. The very ones we want to know.”

The King nodded, reluctantly. 

“So be it, then.” He sheathed his sword and without even looking at the Men whose life he’d chosen to spare on a whim, he stepped out of the hovel. “Captains! Let them loose. Let them run.”

The Prince gave the four Men a strange look, then walked out after his father. 

“So you *do* like him,” Legolas said when they were half way home, a small smile on his lips. 

Thranduil sighed and looked over his shoulder at his son. Their elks moved soundlessly and gracefully through the nighly woods and Gimli seemed to be sleeping, not being unconscious.

“You heard me talking to those Men. This has nothing to do with your…fiancé…as such. I merely had to defend my property.” 

“You would not have come personally for a simple theft.” Despite the grave situation, there was a twinkling in Legolas eyes as if he enjoyed the situation his father had put himself in. Thranduil however kept his composure, although there was a small frown between his eyes as he looked upon the bundled dwarf. 

“A theft and an attempt at destruction,” he eyes the head wound.

“Still not enough for you to send other than the captains.”

“I did for your Mother’s necklace in that disastrous war.”

“You came because you thought I was inside that mountain.” Legolas almost laughed at the put upon look on his father’s face. “We are alone here. You can admit that you have grown fond of Gimli.”

“A member of the royal family is to be protected no matter what he is. Or who.” Thranduil tried haughtily but his son’s laughter made him smile despite himself. “Well, yes. I suppose he is not so bad. For a dwarf. He has excellent taste in gifts.”

Legolas said nothing to that. The fact that Gimli was using jewles to make his father warm up to him much as one might give treats to a grumpy pet was a source of endless entertainment to him. 

“Were you going to kill those Men?” He asked instead. 

“The world is full of Men,” Thranduil waved a hand dismissively. “What are four more or less? Besides, you killed three of them.” He added mildly. 

“In the heat of battle! It is different from killing a bound prisoner.” Legolas protested. 

“You would have slaughtered them all if I hadn’t stopped you.” It was Thranduil’s turn to smile.

“They took Gimli. They hurt him.” He took a deep breath. “I suppose I would.”

“I know. I do have dealings with Eomer, you know. He is still a bit twitchy when you are around.” Thranduil looked amused at his sputtering son, whose ears were now burning red. He let him try to muster up a verbal defence and then patted his shoulder when he realized he had none. “Do not fret, my dear son. After all, do not Men have a saying? Like Father like son?”

The woods rang out with the King’s laughter as Legolas slowly realized that there was absolutely nothing he could say about that.


End file.
